


A Thing of Beauty

by Wizards_Pupil



Series: Ode Verse [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Bilbo is nervous, Erebor, Erebor is big, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Meet the Family, Romance, Sequel, Slash, Smut, Swimming, Thilbo, Top Thorin, Wedding, Wedding Night, bagginshield, courting, meet the parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:25:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wizards_Pupil/pseuds/Wizards_Pupil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo was fairly certain he had never been so nervous in his entire life. And he had fought a heart condition since he was a tweenager. Not to mention he'd battled Goblins and flown on an eagle.</p><p>Meeting Thorin's family shouldn't have even made it onto the list of things to have a panic attack for.</p><p>A collection of one shots in the 'An Ode to Broken Things' verse. Feel free to make any request!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts from Shizukesa who requested the moment where Bilbo met Thorin’s family and Cinnamon_wings who requested Thorin and Bilbo swimming.

_A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:_   
_Its loveliness increases; it will never_   
_Pass into nothingness; but still will keep_   
_A bower quiet for us, and a sleep_   
_Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing._

* * *

Bilbo was fairly certain he had never been so nervous in his entire life. He was wringing his hands together and glancing out the curtain covered window every few seconds before returning his eyes to his lap.

The carriage hardly rocked at all on the road. They were better paved than the one to Greenwood had been.

Erebor was huge. The ‘Lonely Mountain’ was large and imposing, if a little odd in its solitude. It was built into the actual mountain, so all that could be seen from the outside was the gate.

And the word ‘huge’ did not even begin to describe it. The two statues that framed the doors to the gate were nearly half the height of the mountain. They were enormous. Bilbo was not as tall as one of their finger nails. Gandalf was not as tall as one of their fingernails.

And the gates were nearly the width of Hobbiton. Bilbo couldn’t figure out how the dwarves managed to even open them. He had no idea what the inside would be like but he had no doubt it would breathtaking.

“Relax, Daghel. They will love you as I do.” A kiss was pressed to his forehead. The bearded chin tickled his nose. “Well, not exactly as I do. Still.” Another kiss and his dwarf was drawing back. He had a large, toothy smile that made his eyes slightly squinty. Bilbo wanted to climb on to his lap and burrow underneath the furred coat he was wearing.

He was nervous, darn it. “I must leave now to greet my father and siblings. I will send for you in a few moments.”  Thorin grabbed his hand and lifted it to his lips for a whiskery kiss.

The dwarf stood up and, with one last glance, he walked out of the carriage.  Bilbo watched him leave with baited breath.

Yavanna help. He was going to meet the family of his betrothed.

He had never planned that far ahead.

He’d dreamt of a future with Thorin. He’d dreamt of that before he had even started to court the dwarf. He had wished that he could spend the night in Thorin’s arms. That he could laugh with him and kiss him whenever he wanted. He had never really believed that Thranduil would heal him though. It had all just felt like pretend.

It was very much not feeling like pretend now. It was feeling very real, and very scary. What if they didn’t like him? What if Thorin was wrong and they didn’t want him to marry a simple hobbit?

Would he be sent back to the Shire?

His heart started to pound in his chest and Bilbo panicked. He bent over at the waist and tucked his head between his knees. He placed both hands on top of his head and used them and his arms to block out the rest of the world. His breath was coming in frightened gasps and he felt dizzy. He was going to pass out. That was actually going to happen. Perfect, everyone would know he was crazy.

His heart was fluttering and he was not getting any air.

This wasn’t right. He had a strong heart. It wasn’t going to give out. He was okay. He just had to calm down. Thorin loved him. He would not have lied. He would stick with Bilbo.

He just wanted them to like him. He had never really had a family before, just Gandalf, and it still felt odd to call him family. He was Gandalf. He was the rock Bilbo had been supported by most of his life. He was outside of description.

But he wanted Thorin’s family, who would soon be his family, to like him. He wanted what Thorin had. He wanted to smile any time he recalled a memory. He wanted to belong to this group of dwarves. He already considered Fili and Kili to be family… Ori and Bofur and Bifur were practically brothers now, and Thorin was- well- Thorin was his Thorin. He didn’t really have words for everything that Thorin was to him.

This was his chance to get a family, and he did not want to mess it up. He also thought Gandalf would probably rain fire down on them if he cried and he didn’t want Thorin’s family burnt.

Bilbo fisted the fabric at the side of his legs and slowly straightened up. He was still dizzy and his heart was pounding (it was so weird to feel it pounding in his chest and not be terrified that he was going to overwork it!) but that was all. There was no blackness and the horrible weariness was gone.

Sitting still wasn’t helping anything. Bilbo stood up stiffly and looked at the door before he started pacing. He was hardly aware of moving his feet, but the motion was helping with the dizziness. Which was weird, but Bilbo wasn’t going to concentrate on that. If he listened he could just hear Thorin’s voice.

It was steadily getting louder. Thorin was drawing near.

It was amazing how much that excited and terrified him. He never felt more secure than when Thorin had him wrapped up tight, but he also knew that the royal family would not be far behind.

He was psyching himself out. It wasn’t actually that bad.

The door to the carriage popped open and a familiar hat peeked inside followed by a pair of bushy eyebrows and pale eyes. “Are you read, Aew nín?(Little Bird)”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Bilbo swayed and Gandalf laughed. He glared at the wizard to let him know how very much not funny this all was.

“Relax, Aew nín. You’ve fought goblins, this should be simple to that.”

“That situation was nothing like this one.” Bilbo insisted as he crossed the floor. He grabbed Gandalf’s offered hand and climbed down the steps on legs that felt a little wobbly. “And Shadowfax did most of the work.”

“This is not work. This is merely meeting the family of your intended. You’ve met Fíli and Kíli already. Is this really so different?”

“Yes.” Bilbo said petulantly. He straightened his vest and tugged on the sleeves of his jacket. He was dressed as a proper, upper class hobbit and it felt a bit stifling. He was used to wearing loose clothes. “I didn’t know who they were and they introduced themselves to me.”

“Come now.” Gandalf wrangled his hand back and tugged him forward. He went with a stumble and righted himself. “As your ‘father’ I am insisting you come with me now. We have dawdled long enough. There is nothing to be frightened of. I will not have you needlessly taxing your heart.”

Bilbo was tugged along to the other side of the carriage.  Six dwarves were standing in a circle. He didn’t recognize the three backs to him, but he knew the dwarves that were facing him. Thorin’s eyes lit up and a large smile spread across his lips. Gandalf pushed him forward and then returned to the carriage leaving Bilbo alone.

The traitor.

He turned back to look at the dwarves and noticed that Thorin was still looking at him with fond eyes and a private smile. One that was only ever for him. Bilbo felt dizzier. In a pleasant and not so pleasant way. It was a bit confusing.

“Mizimel!” The dwarf called in a cheerful voice. He stepped forward and two of the unknown dwarves stepped aside to allow him through. “There you are.” Thorin took his free hand and Gandalf released his other so Thorin could have that one as well. He was tugged into a close embrace and he let out a breath he had not known he was holding.

Thorin stepped back and took his hand again. He turned towards the other dwarves and pulled Bilbo forward. “This is my intended. My Sanzeuh, Bilbo Baggins.”

The three dwarves all turned to look at him. The tallest was also the oldest, clearly Thrain, Thorin’s father. He had the same sharp nose and piercing eyes. There was a thick, heavy looking crown on top his head and he wore an intricately embroidered robe of red and blue.

A shorter dwarf with hair the same color as Thorin stood at his side. He had a neatly braided beard that was full of beads and he wore his hair loose like Kíli. He was wearing a green weskit and black trousers. It looked comfortable. It was Frerin, and Bilbo felt silly that he had been jealous of him for so long.

The last dwarf was blonde like Fíli. She had green eyes and her lips were quirked in a mischievous smile that Bilbo knew from Fíli, and Kíli. She was dressed in purple and had golden chains woven throughout several braids around her head. There was no question that this was Dís, mother to the two troublemakers.

“It is an honor to meet you all. I am at your service”

“So this is the hobbit that has made my brother smile?” Dís asked. Her voice was light and almost musical. Bilbo would not have expected it from a dwarf. Thorin’s grip on his hand tightened.

“I smile often, sister. I am a thoroughly pleasant person.”

Frerin let out a loud, barking laugh and Dís grinned all the wider. Bilbo peeked over his shoulder to see Thorin with a faint blush.

“Pleasant?”

“Do not start.” Thorin warned, his eyes twinkling. Bilbo relaxed and squeezed Thorin’s hand. He turned back to the others and hoped his smile hadn’t looked crazy when he’d first approached them.

“So you met him in the Shire?” Thrain questioned. His voice was deep and raspy. Bilbo nodded his head.

“Yes. I befriended him at the market and then we traveled together to Greenwood where he was healed.” Thorin rubbed his thumb along the back of Bilbo’s hand as he spoke. His voice had a careful quality to it that made Bilbo want to hug him. Thorin did not like talking about those dark days. He had come to Bilbo in the dark of night on several occasions and climbed under the covers to rest next to him. He’d fall asleep with his head on Bilbo’s chest, right over his heart.

Bilbo felt guilty ever mentioning them, but they’d meant the world to him. Thorin had proven his heart beyond all doubt.

“Yes, you mentioned a heart condition in your raven. All turned out well?” Thrain swept his eyes over Bilbo’s form. He tried to stand taller. Dís and Frerin looked worried. Kíli and Fíli were beaming behind them.

“He is healed.” Thorin’s voice almost cracked and Bilbo was helpless to stop the tender smile that lifted his lips. He twisted his torso and freed his hand from Thorin’s. He wrapped his arm around the dwarf’s waist instead.

“Do you have a date, nadad (brother)?” Dís asked with a cock of her head.

“We are hoping for May tenth.”

“A month?” Dís fairly near squeaked. She stepped forward and waved her hands in the air. “That’s no time to plan! I have to get clothes, decorations, food, jewelry-“

“Flowers.” Thorin added, raising an amused eyebrow. “Whatever you wish sister. I ask only that there be music.” He smiled down at Bilbo and brushed a curl back with the back of a finger. “I should like to dance with my Consort.”

Bilbo flushed, thinking of the book of wishes tucked away in the carriage. He would dance at his first wedding, and it would be his own.

“I shall enjoy getting to know more about you at dinner, Master Baggins.” Thrain said with a stately incline of his head. “However I am needed at a meeting. Thorin? I shall require your assistance as well.” Thorin nodded his head and Thrain went into Erebor.

Which was still unfathomably large.

“Can I trust my kurdu with you two?” Frerin put his hand over his heart and adopted the most ridiculous wounded expression Bilbo had ever seen.  Dís smiled wickedly.

“Of course!” They coursed together. Bilbo chuckled, and the smile grew larger.

“Do not make me regret leaving him with you. If you do, I will make the itching powder incident seem like a blessing.” Thorin gave his head a decisive nod and Bilbo watched as both the siblings eyes widened in mild alarm and memory.

“Understood.”

“Then I will see you as soon as I can be spared.” Thorin turned so he was facing Bilbo. He lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Bilbo’s heart fluttered at the romantic gesture and he couldn’t help the large smile that lifted his lips.

He stepped closer and took hold of Thorin’s shoulder. He pushed up and freed his other hand so that he could grab the back of Thorin’s head. He pressed a kiss to the dwarf’s surprised lips and gave a quick tug to the courtship braid that hung beside his ear.

“What was that for?” Thorin asked when he pulled away. Bilbo shrugged and gave his lips another quick peck.

“Because I wanted to.” Bilbo smiled, feeling more relaxed. He sank back to the ground and understanding lit Thorin’s eyes, along with joy, and something that looked like awe. “Go on, your father will be waiting for you. I’ll be fine.”

Thorin remained still for a moment longer, his eyes promising so many things that Bilbo felt dizzy with anticipation for their future. This wouldn’t  do. He gave Thorin a little push and the dwarf laughed. “Very well, Daghel. I shall see you in a while.” He nodded his head to Frerin and Dís and walked into the oversized gate doors.

“That was adorable.” Dís declared out loud. She turned back to face Bilbo and grabbed his arm. Frerin stepped up to his other side and did the same. Fíli and Kíli stared at him with matching grins.

“Now,” Frerin started, laughter lacing his voice, “that Thorin is gone-“

“Tell us everything, and do not spare any details.” Dís continued.

“Was he hopeless? He’s never been good at speaking his mind.”

“Did you make him blush?”

“Did he stutter when he asked you?”

“Did he give a long speech about why he wanted to court you?” The questions came faster and faster so that Bilbo was having to whip his head back and forth. Fíli and Kíli were laughing, holding onto each other to keep from falling over.

“Did anyone else see? Did Ori sketch anything? Please tell me Ori managed to make sketches!” Frerin’s grin was so wide it almost looked painful.

“And why is he calling you fish?”

Bilbo laughed, and let the dwarves lead him into Erebor.

-[]-[]-[]-

Bilbo was quite certain that his bedroom was larger than his entire hobbit hole had been. The bed alone was the size his room had been.

It was also one of the softest things Bilbo had ever laid on. He could not wait to curl up in it with a blanket and good book.

The mountain had looked cold and imposing from the outside, and while it was certainly still imposing, it was not cold. The entire kingdom was heated by furnaces at the base of the mountain that made everything, even the rooms on the top levels, deliciously warm. There were also a plethora of fireplaces. Bilbo could have fit a table and chairs in his.

The dwarves had managed to filter sunlight, or starlight depending on the time of day, through the roof and into the rooms and halls. The polished stone reflected it, and it made the ceiling seem to glow with light that had no source. It was breathtaking.

And so very large.

Bilbo got _horrendously_ lost his first two days. It took Thorin an hour to find him again the first time, and Gandalf using a seeker spell the second time. Thorin had made certain he had at least two other dwarves with him at all times after that.

He wasn’t lonely, thanks to that, but he missed Thorin. The dwarf Prince had been in one thing or another almost since they’d arrived.

Right now Bilbo was making use of his new bed and trying to mark an item off his wish/dream list. It was a very simple item, one that most every creature would have done in their life. Still, Bilbo was only in his thirties, that wasn’t too late to be bouncing on a bed, was it?

“Daghel? Are you he-” Thorin’s deep voice echoed through the room right as Bilbo reached the pinnacle of his bounce. He dropped his legs so that he landed in a seated position but it was too late. Thorin was standing in the doorway watching him.

“Thorin!” He grinned as innocently as he could and tried to ignore the fact that he was still bouncing on the bed a little.

Thorin crossed the floor in three, quick, strides and wrapped him up in an unexpected and tight embrace. He tucked his head in Bilbo’s neck and held him close. Bilbo returned the embrace, a little confused.

“Thorin? Âzyung? (love)” The dwarf’s grip tightened before releasing him.

“I am sorry, daghel,” Thorin mumbled, not quite meeting his gaze. “I was simply remembering-” He swallowed and inhaled deeply before releasing it in a long puff of air. “Nothing, Bilbo.”

He did that every once and a while. Ever since Greenwood he would grab Bilbo as tightly as he could and hold on. He’d stare or just stroke Bilbo’s hand. Almost as if he didn’t really believe Bilbo was there. If he ever grabbed his chest Thorin went mental with worry.

It was flattering in a wonderfully intimate way, but it also was hindering. He wanted Thorin to stop worrying and remembering darker days. He was healed. His heart was no longer fading.

They had a future.

“I didn’t expect you for another hour.” Bilbo said, changing the subject. Thorin was holding his hands and the dwarf’s thumbs were rubbing his skin in a way that made it obvious he wasn’t aware of the caress. He was slipping away to sad thoughts and Bilbo wasn’t going to let him.

“Frerin took over so that I could have an early leave.” He stepped in between Bilbo’s spread legs and pressed a swift kiss to his lips.

“Mmm,” Bilbo hummed against Thorin’s lips. “I get you early then? To what reason do I owe that pleasure?” He pulled Thorin nearer by his hands before twisting them free and wrapping his arms around Thorin’s neck in a loose embrace. The dwarf’s large hands settled on his hips and a soft smile tugged at his lips.

Bilbo felt successful.

“I have a plan for our evening, daghel. A plan I did not wish to delay.”

“Indeed? What is it?”

“You shall find out in a few minutes. Do you mind following me?” Bilbo shook his head and Thorin stepped back to allow him room. He slipped off the bed and took Thorin’s hand. The dwarf stared down at him. Bilbo waited several long moments before a grin lifted his lips.

“Where to?” Thorin shook himself and looked away, slightly bashful. It made something tender uncurl in Bilbo’s stomach. A deep affection, an urge to protect, and an almost painful amount of love for the dwarf.

“This way.” Thorin led the way out of the bedroom and down the outer hall. He told Bilbo about his day and Bilbo talked about his own in return. They headed down, but Bilbo wasn’t familiar enough with Erebor to know where they were going.

Thorin turned into a chamber that, while still tall, was about a third of the height of the other halls. It was far warmer, and the air felt moist. Bilbo could hear a splashing noise and he wasn’t certain what that was about. Thorin went deeper into the empty chamber and then Bilbo saw why they were there.

It was a pool of water. It was several hundred feet long and glowed a faint green from the filtering evening light and stone it was built in. Steps descended down into the water and there were piles of towels to the side.

“Oh,” Bilbo breathed. He was hardly aware of Thorin’s hand tightening on his or the fact that he was walking towards the edge. The water looked so _enticing_.

“If you are willing, daghel, I should like to swim with you.” The dwarf was already unclasping his cloak and toeing off his boots. Bilbo glanced at the pool, a familiar bubble of worry growing in his chest. Water was still something magical, and slightly forbidden. He knew the basics of swimming, thanks to Thorin, but he wasn’t very skilled yet. The water looked deep as well.

Still, the chance to swim alone with Thorin was not something he would pass up. He answered by shrugging off his jacket and vest. Thorin beamed and took off his tunic. He dumped it on top of his cloak and piled his jewelry with it. Bilbo worked on his shirt, an intricately clasped and buttoned thing that Thorin had gifted him, and he heard a clatter of metal hitting the floor. He glanced up quickly before pausing and looking back up.

Thorin was in nothing but cloth shorts. Bilbo licked his lips and slipped his shirt off while his heart fluttered. Thorin would never not be breathtaking. He was all compacted muscle, tanned skin and dark hair. An enticing sight that Bilbo was helpless to resist.

The dwarf, thankfully unaware that he had Bilbo’s undivided attention stepped to the edge of the pond and dove under the water. Bilbo’s breath left in a gasp and he went about undoing his breeches without really paying attention. Thorin emerged a moment later and tossed his head back. His dark hair clung to his face, cheeks, and neck in greedy strands and Bilbo wanted to tangle his fingers in them. He had his eyes closed and his head tilted towards the ceiling. Shadows played across his face and made his sharp, angular face all the more handsome.

Bilbo walked toward the edge in an almost trance. Thorin dropped his head and opened his eyes. Hips lips curled in a smile and his pale eyes locked on Bilbo’s form as he went to the steps. He wasn’t confident enough to attempt a dive. He walked as quickly as he could and stopped when he was at the bottom. The water was just to his neck. If he went any further forward he’d have to swim.

Thorin cut across the water between them with a few powerful strokes. He stopped in front of Bilbo and crowded him back to the wall.

“My daghel,” He murmured, bending over Bilbo. His dark hair fell in wet sheets around them and Bilbo was helpless to stop the shiver that went up his spine. His eyes drifted to a drop of water on Thorin’s cheek and his gaze watched as it trailed down Thorin’s neck. A hand grabbed his own and Bilbo tilted his head back to resume staring at Thorin.

His gaze was open and tender and it made Bilbo’s heart hammer to see it. Thorin only ever looked at him that way. It was assuring and frightening at the same time. Thorin was the most passionate person he’d ever met, and he was scared by how much he already loved the dwarf.

Thorin took a sudden step back and pulled Bilbo with him he kept going backwards until there was nothing beneath Bilbo’s feet. He treaded water like Thorin had taught him and Thorin joined him.

There was something indescribable about being in the water. It was like being suspended in a moment. Bilbo was as near to weightless as possible and he could just float. Just exist without any troubles.

“You have yet to go under.” Thorin observed after a moment. He moved closer to Bilbo and wrapped a hand around his waist. The water was barely deeper than Thorin was tall. He tugged Bilbo nearer and the hobbit went without complaint. He allowed Thorin to wrap his legs around the dwarf’s waist and put his arms around Thorin’s neck. Thorin kept them floating and wrapped an arm around his chest to hold him close. He gave him a wicked smile. “Hold your breath, Bilbo.”

Then they were under water. Everything was suspended for a moment and Bilbo let his eyes slip open. Thorin was looking at him, and it was an incredible sight. The dwarf’s hair was floating around his head in long, dark strands like a cloud of silk and his blue eyes seemed all the bluer in the green hued water. His skin looked paler and bubbles were traveling from his nose and mouth to the surface. Bilbo’s hair was floating around his face and he could feel Thorin’s hand tighten around his back.

He was fully depending on Thorin to keep him up. It was easy to do. Trust Thorin.

He removed one of his arms from Thorin’s neck and pressed it against the dwarf’s chest instead. He let it trail around the soft hair there until it settled over Thorin’s heart. He almost imagined he could feel the heart there beating.

He loved Thorin’s heart.

Thorin tugged him close suddenly, and connected his lips to Bilbo’s. He slipped his tongue inside Bilbo’s mouth when he gasped in surprise and Bilbo didn’t have time to worry about something as unimportant as air before they were surfacing again. Water seemed to be everywhere for a moment, and then cool air was washing over the part of his face not pressing against Thorin’s.

“I thought,” he mumbled against Thorin’s lips once he regained a sense of where he was, “we were going to swim.”

“I do not think you could keep up,” Thorin replied, his lips nipping at Bilbo’s in a manner that should have been illegal.

“I’m the daghel here, Thorin.” Bilbo squeezed Thorin’s side and then pushed off of him. He stroke his arms in the water as quickly as he could and fought a mad giggle when he heard Thorin growl behind him. He swam towards the far edge as fast as he could. He had the advantage of larger feet which allowed him to cut through the water easier, but Thorin had strength and years of practice on his side. Still, Bilbo nearly reached the other side before he was caught.

Thorin pushed him against the wall and Bilbo’s legs wrapped around his waist again. Thorin clutched at the pool edge with one thick fingered hand and held Bilbo with the other. The kiss he pressed on Bilbo’s lips could only be described as possessive and it made Bilbo moan hotly. He blushed at the unintended noise but Thorin pressed closer and started to murmur.

He always did that when he was ardorous. He would mumble against Bilbo’s lips or murmur against his skin. It was always a mixture of khuzdul and common, and it never failed to make Bilbo hot and light headed.

“Men daghel, âzyung khlnâtel. Kurduel Bilbo men…( My fish of fish, love til the end of all ends. Bilbo, my heart.)”

He only knew a few of the words, but they curled deep in his chest to rest beside his strongly beating heart. Promises and desires, hopes for their future. Dwarves were strict about pre marriage intimacy, but Bilbo didn’t mind waiting when there were things like this in the mean time.

Time seemed as weightless as his body, suspended in the water and unimportant. He didn’t know how long they kissed, only that he didn’t want to stop. He was wrapped in a warm embrace and there was nothing but him and Thorin.

When the dwarf finally did release him from the wall it was with a regretful moan. Thorin pressed his forehead against Bilbo’s and the hobbit allowed himself to hold on for a moment longer before letting Thorin go. His prince drifted so that he was floating on his back and Bilbo joined him. It reminded him of an earlier day. When he first learned about floating.

A lot had changed since that time.

“One day,” Thorin promised as Bilbo drifted nearer to him, “one day when you wear my ring I will take you back to the lake in the Shire. I will show you all the ways that there are to swim, âzyungâl.”

Bilbo grasped the dwarf’s wide hand and looked up at the glowing ceiling. There was no sound to be heard outside of Thorin’s breathing and the quiet lapping of the water against the pools edge.

“One day.” He replied and let his eyes slip closed. He could imagine that. There would be a ‘one day.’ He had a bright future.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt number two by cinnamon wings. Wedding will be next chapter :D I have two more prompts to write about. Feel free to leave me any you would like to see. (For this story or others!)

The wedding was two days away and Thorin should have been rejoicing in his upcoming nuptials or attending to last minute details.

“You know, I have never seen such intriguing marks. All hobbits get them?” Bilbo nodded his head, curls bouncing across his cheeks. His cheeks which had Frerin’s fingers on them. The dwarf was holding his chin up and was examining him far too closely.

Thorin was not happy with any of this.

He was standing just outside of the hall, in the shadows that the tapestries created. Bilbo was supposed to meet him after his first dinner. They had a few items to look over for their ceremony. He would not be permitted to see his beloved at all the next day.

“They’re just freckles.” Bilbo said with a dismissive shrug. “Hardly unusual. I was more unusual not to have them when I was younger.” Bilbo rubbed at his face distractedly and frowned. “Are they terribly noticeable?” His gaze dropped to the floor fearfully and Thorin found himself silently moving forward to comfort.

“Yes, and they’re lovely.” Frerin’s smile was too large to be friendly. Thorin took as step back and re-immersed himself in the shadows. “Quite becoming.”

And they were _Thorin’s_. Every hair, every freckle, every smile was Thorin’s to cherish. The hobbit was his betrothed! They were to marry in two days. Why was Frerin flirting with his kurduel?

“My son? Why are you lurking here?” Thrain came to his side from the corridor unexpected. He had completely missed the King’s approach in his study of his brother and soon-to-be-consort. He could not let himself be so compromised over so simple a thing. He simply had to trust those he loved. Frerin would not steal away his intended. Even if Bilbo was practically perfect with eyes that shone brighter than any jewel and a smile that felt like light itself.

“I was to meet with Bilbo.” Thrain turned his head to look and see what was in the hall and frowned. He joined Thorin in leaning against the back wall.

“What is Frerin doing here? Dís was supposed to have him overseeing the guard today.”

“I do not know.” He growled the words out and determinedly avoided Thrain’s amused gaze. Everyone seemed to look at him in amusement whenever Frerin was near to Bilbo. It was not _his_ fault that his brother could not keep his paws off Bilbo.

“Well, I have need of your brother. Follow me and you can have your hobbit back.” The king pushed forward with his robes dragging behind him. His footfalls echoed in the grand halls and drew the attention of the hobbit and dwarf inside. Frerin’s eyes widened and he smiled sheepishly at their father.

“Father!”

“You are aware that the guard change has occurred without your aid?” Thrain berated gently. Frerin nodded and dropped his gaze. “Then you can attend me in court. The leaders of the Guilds wish to have my attention for the next few hours.”

Frerin blanched and his sheepish grin dropped into a frown. Thorin would have felt sorry for his brother on a different occasion. As was, he felt a fierce glee which he could not dissipate.

It was the fifth occurrence of such a feeling.

He had seen his brother and hobbit spend time together on frequent occasions. They were usually preparing something for the wedding, but recently they were simply spending time together.

His brother gave Bilbo a last smile, his handsome face showing amusement. “I’ll see you later, Mister Baggins. I look forward to learning more about your ways.” Thrain and Frerin left the hall, and Thorin had nothing to say. Bilbo studied him with curious eyes and went to his side. He grabbed Thorin’s hand loosely and offered him a smile. It didn’t seem as bright as the one he directed to Frerin.

It was a long evening. Thorin could not break the distant feeling that had claimed him, and kept seeing his brother making Bilbo laugh, or smile, or bringing forth the twinkle that Thorin adored. Even when they retired to Bilbo’s room for the evening, he could not break the anger that churned in his belly.

Bilbo finally snapped.

“What is wrong with you? You won’t sit with me, you keep glaring, and you won’t even call me Daghel.” He sank down on the bed, snuggling into the furs and pillows. Thorin would usually join him against the pillows and they would pour over old tombs to teach Bilbo dwarvish customs. “There is clearly something the matter. Will you not tell me what it is?”

They stood like that for an immeasurable amount of time. Bilbo refused to back down.

“Yes.” Thorin finally growled. He turned his back on his hobbit perched on the bed and glared at the flames. The finely polished stone of the fireplace still reflected Bilbo’s reflection, and it hurt. “I am jealous of my brother.”  He swallowed and forcibly reminded himself to obey his promise to Bilbo. He would speak the truth. “I know that you have chosen me, but you did so before you knew him. He is far more… attractive than I, and younger. I can understand how he would appeal.”

Bilbo’s laugh was loud and quick. It shook his slowly plumping frame and made him wrap his arms around his chest. “Oh!” he gasped out before wiping a hand across his brow. “That is too funny!”

Thorin turned on his heel and glared. As much as he cherished every laugh from Bilbo, he saw no reason to enjoy it now. Was it really so humorous to the halfling to see him in pain? Or was the fact that he thought Bilbo might prefer him to Frerin so ludicrous?

Why did the hobbit always steal his words? He was hopeless against the feelings he felt at every sight of him. Against the fear and pain he felt when the hobbit laughed at Frerin’s words.

His face must have betrayed him. Bilbo’s laugh trailed off and the gleeful expression on his face grew somber. “Oh Thorin,” he murmured. His voice, usually a balm to Thorin’s nerves, did nothing but deepen the ache. The hobbit sat up on his knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. He reached for Thorin’s hand but the dwarf had far too quick of reflexes to allow it to be caught. Pain flitted across his love’s face but he did not allow himself to feel guilt over it. Not this time. Bilbo sat back.

“I am sorry to amuse you so. It was not my intent.”

“You’ve forgotten.” Bilbo said with a slow tilt of his head.

“Forgotten what?” It was hard to fight against Bilbo. To resist his constant urge to be near the hobbit. He was in a sleep shirt and that always brought back memories of the dark days. He longed for their marriage so that he could fall asleep with the hobbit and replace the memories with new, brighter ones.

“That I was _extremely_ jealous of _Frerin_.” Thorin paused and tried to remember. Bilbo took the distraction and caught his hand. “I thought he was your lover. I hated his very name, and, obviously, I didn’t even know a thing about him. The idea that _he_ had _your love_ was nearly enough to make me wish him dead. It was only that I didn’t really think I’d live long enough to ever truly love you that I didn’t.”

“What?” Thorin knew that Bilbo hadn’t known Frerin was his brother, but he hadn’t known it went that far.

“I simply find it indescribably amusing that your brother would cause us both to feel such jealousy.” He tugged on Thorin’s hand and he accepted the tug for what it was and moved closer to the bed. “Needlessly.”

“Needlessly?”

Bilbo laughed and leaned forward. He wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and clung to him. “Yes you impossible dwarf. I don’t know why dwarves do not consider you to be that attractive by _their_ blind standards. You are, however, devilishly attractive by Hobbit standards.” Thorin frowned in confusion. His hobbit was talking nonsense. He still welcomed the embrace though. He wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s waist and held him close. Bilbo leaned back enough to see his face and chuckled.

“You don’t believe me! How, by the name of the Green Lady Fair, did you miss all the hobbit’s whispering behind your back and giggling? I was rather unpopular with several ladies just because I had your _friendship_. When they hear that I’ve married you they will be positively livid.”

Thorin cupped Bilbo’s face and pressed a kiss to his enticing lips. He had no words for his hobbit and could not hold back his affections. Bilbo responded happily and Thorin found himself pressing kisses to the rest of his face before traveling down to the tempting skin of his throat.

“The things I would like to do to you.” Thorin murmured against the skin of Bilbo’s neck. The hobbit shivered and pressed closer. “The time before we are wed seems insurmountable.” Bilbo’s hand tightened in his hair. “I fear I shall be driven mad with want before then.”

Bilbo tugged his hair until he moved back and gave him a saucy smile. “Then I guess you should head to bed.”

Thorin blinked in confusion and Bilbo went on with a broadening smile. “The quicker you fall asleep the sooner it will be tomorrow, and then only a day until we wed.”

He would surely go mad before then.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here is the deepest secret nobody knows_   
_(Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud_   
_And the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows_   
_Higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)_   
_And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart_   
_I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)_

_-E. E. Cummings_

* * *

 

Bilbo could hardly recognize the hobbit staring back at him.

The hobbit had curls that were somewhere between red and gold, and silky to the touch. They hung in loose coils around his head, shiny and soft. He had blue eyes framed with green, that were bright and alert. His skin was a healthy tan, covered in freckles. He was plump, but not terribly overweight.

He was young, reasonably attractive, and so very alive.

He had the hair on his feet freshly combed. He had a white shirt on, with a cream colored vest, and a light brown jacket. He was dressed very well in clothes that had clearly never been worn before. He wore three ornaments. An ear cuff, a bright green bead, and a crown of flowers that sat on top of his head in wedding tradition.

He was having a bit of trouble breathing. It was an incredible shock.

He, _Bilbo_ _Baggins_ , was dressed for a wedding. He was marrying.

“You know, you will not change. Regardless of how long you look at yourself.” Gandalf’s gruff voice floated through the room easily, echoing off the walls and seeming to become even deeper. It made Bilbo grin, despite the nerves curling in his stomach. His fingers very nearly shook with them.

Which was odd. He was marrying Thorin. It wasn’t like he had any doubts about doing so. He was excited to finally be united with the dwarf. To be bonded and bound by law.

“I already have changed.” Bilbo pointed out.

“And you look very nice in your wedding attire. However,” Gandalf moved to stand behind him, his reflection joining Bilbo’s. He had cleaned his own grey robes, and Bilbo had freshly mended them. He looked quite nice himself. He’d even consented to have a few flowers woven into his hair. “We are going to be late if we do not move along.”

“It would be horribly rude to be late to ones own wedding, wouldn’t it?”

“Horribly.” Gandalf held out his hand for Bilbo’s. He took the hand and swallowed thickly. Gandalf tugged him forward and led the way out of the room they were preparing in.

He could hear music when they reached the corridor. It was coming from the grand hall where Thorin and half of Erebor was waiting. A group of guards stood at the entrance, all in official garb and at attention. They gave Bilbo a honor guard and half followed him as he entered the grand hall.

The music, a mixture of instruments new and familiar, swelled. The room was far brighter than the hall, and for a moment, Bilbo couldn’t really see. Then he adjusted to the sun and jewel lit room and saw all in it. It was decorated with huge banners bearing the royal crest, and more people than Bilbo knew filled it’s hall. His friends filled the first few rows, along with Thorin’s family.

Thorin stood at the front with Balin. Bilbo stopped moving at the sight of him. His heart started pound (and it was still so strange to feel it pound and not find himself faint) and he felt breathless in a way that had nothing to do with being weak. The dwarf stood tall and proud. His dark hair was braid intricately, and his beard was as well. He wore the crown that depicted him as heir apparent, and several other pieces of jewelry that showed his station and status.  His robes were a rich blue, and they looked as though they’d be delightful to touch.

He’d never seen Thorin smile so widely and openly. Joy shone on his handsome face and made Bilbo’s healed heart flutter.

He felt a tear fall down his cheek and was certain his face would be aching from how widely he was smiling.

“We need to keep walking, Aew Nin.” Gandalf’s whispered words brought Bilbo back to the fact that he was standing still and that it had probably been several moments now.

He blushed a bright red and let Gandalf lead him down the long, flower strewn, path. It seemed to take both forever, and no time to reach the end.

Thorin was even more impressive up close. He utterly robbed Bilbo of his breath. Balin said something, it was in common, but Bilbo’s ears refused to work properly, and Gandalf let go of his hand. Thorin reached out for his hand and Bilbo took it. The wizards stepped back to join the rest of their friends.

He met Thorin’s gaze and time seemed to slip away.

Balin spoke in khuzdul. The rough syllables echoed around the quiet room. It was a call for Bilbo and Thorin to speak their vows. He turned to his side as Thorin did so that they were facing each other. He could see the large crowd of people in his peripherals, but it was surprisingly easy to ignore them when Thorin was smiling so.

“I,Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, take you, Bilbo Baggins to wed. I take you for now and always. Through sowing and harvest, ill and good, to love and cherish till death claims me. In the sight of father Eru, I bind myself to you as Maker Aule and Lady Yavanna are.” The hobbit pledge made tears spring to Bilbo’s eyes and he gasped out a cry that sounded like a sob mixed with laughter. Thorin had found out how Hobbit’s pledged their lives and done it for him.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers trembling in Thorin’s hands. It was his turn.

“Men, Bilbo Baggins, inùdoyu Bongo Baggins, gond men furk ana Thorin. (I -- son of -- vow my life to Thorin. Men âysîthl uduab ana natel. ( take him as my husband from now on until the end of all ends.) The khuzdul felt thick on his tongue, but the way it made Thorin’s eyes light up made the long hours of study with Ori worth it.

“The beads.” Dís stepped forward with two beads made of a shimmery metal that looked like a cross between diamonds and silvers. It was beautiful to look at, and made Bilbo’s inhale sharply.

Mithril. That would have cost quite a pretty penny.

Thorin took one up and reached for Bilbo’s hair. His calloused fingers slipped through the curls, separating seven, thin, strands from the rest, and weaving them in the marriage pattern. (Bilbo was fairly certain the seven strands had to do with the seven original dwarf lords.)

“Men anagond zatazâyung zu, natel. (I vow to cherish you to the end.)” He clasped the bead and released the braid. Bilbo felt it fall against his cheek, the mithril cool against his flushed skin. He repeated the actions, weaving a braid in Thorin’s far thicker hair with fingers that were thankfully steady.

“Men anagond zatazâyung zu, natel. (I vow to cherish you to the end.)”

“Let all dwarves see these and know that they are bound to each other.” Balin said with an inclination of his head. He summoned Frerin forward next. “The rings.”

They were simple gold bands in hobbit style. Thorin had wanted to make them more grand, but Bilbo wanted them to remain simple bands. The dwarf had ceded on the promise that he could decorate Bilbo with other jewelry.

Bilbo took the larger one up and lifted Thorin’s left hand. He slipped the ring on the finger and allowed Thorin to do the same. “Let all other races see these rings and know that they are bound to each other.” Balin stepped back. “Seal your vows with a kiss, and let no one break it on Mahal’s fury.”

Thorin’s ringed hand cupped his cheek suddenly, and the dwarf leaned in slowly. His blue eyes were vivid and bright as he waited. Bilbo, with a hopelessly silly smile, leaned forward and closed the dividing space. The kiss was soft and quick (there were several hundred people present. Bilbo was not an exhibitionist in the least.)

They were married.

-[]-[]-[]-

Bilbo’s eyes were brighter than the very stars that Varda had decorated the night sky with. His curls bounced around his face with each turn of his head, or laugh. The light noise decorated the air and made Thorin’s heart pound in his chest.

His husband was beautiful to behold.

He was surrounded by friends and admirers who all wanted to give him their well wishes. Thorin was content to watch him smile from a few feet away while they waited for the servants to clear the food away and ready the dances.

“You have not moved for the past ten minutes, my son.” Thorin acknowledged his father’s presence with a smile.

“There seems little reason to move from such a view, Adad.”

“Indeed. I am happy for you my son.” Thrain’s gaze lighted on the hobbit who was smiling at something Gandalf said. “You have chosen well.”

“There was very little choice, father. He found me and I learned of who he was… It took very little time before my heart was no longer my own. It was as you said it would be.”

“Did you know of his condition?” Thorin shook his head.

“No, though I doubt such knowledge would have changed anything.” He shook his head again. “No, I did not know. When he confessed the truth it was already too late. Though I would have never wished it, I would have bore the pain of his loss to my own grave.”

“Do not think on such things tonight, Thorin. Tonight is for joy. You have lived too much of your life in the shadow of sadness.”

He didn’t know how to respond. He had always been somber, of course. It was not in his nature to be as bright and happy as the hobbit he loved. He had lost loved ones at a young age and never lost the graveness their passing instilled.

He feared losing Bilbo more than anything else. Even now, nearly three months since Bilbo awoke with a stronger heart, he still woke in a cold sweat imagining Bilbo exhaling a final time. The hobbit would be limp against the blankets and paler than moonlight.

Music filtered through the air and shattered the dark memories that were trying to take route in his mind. He looked forward to find Bilbo staring at him. The hobbit, ( _his_ hobbit,) was smiling shyly and Thorin felt as though he might burst from the things swelling in his chest.

He strode forward purposefully to Bilbo as others cleared the floor. Bilbo’s eyes were large and shimmery. He was biting his lip in an attractively coy manner and fidgeting. “Daghel,” Thorin intoned quietly when he reached the hobbit.

“Thorin,”

“May I have this dance?” Bilbo’s smile would have been enough to sustain him.

“Yes.” He took the hobbit’s smaller hand in his own and pulled him forward until they were chest to chest. Bilbo had to crane his head back to look up at Thorin, but he didn’t look bothered by it. His unclaimed hand settled on Thorin’s shoulder while Thorin’s hand rested low on his husband’s (!) waist. The music grew louder and cued the start. He moved forward, leading the hobbit with gentle force.

He’d never seen Bilbo smile so widely.

On their second pass around the room, when the others joined into the dance, Bilbo changed his position. He moved his hand lower so that it was on his chest, and rested his cheek against Thorin’s chest. Thorin pulled him closer and bent his own head a little lower, protectively over his consort.

Bilbo hummed the tune under his breath as they swayed to the beat of the music. His braid fell against his cheek, brushing over his ear and it drew Thorin’s unwavering attention. The hobbit was his. They were together.

-[]-[]-[]-

Bilbo believed he had danced with half of Erebor by the nights end. He’d had a wild Canario with Fili and Kili, a Basse Dance with Bofur, Ori, Bifur, and Oin, and several hobbit dances with Gandalf. It had been quite fun to hop around the dance floor twirling his arms in the air, and watching the elderly wizard do the same.

He’d had more dances with Thorin than he could count. The only reason his dwarf had given him up was that Gandalf struck quite a daunting pose.

He was tired, but not breathless. The reception was drawing to a close and he was being escorted to Thorin’s room by a group of guards. The prince, his _husband_ would be joining him as soon as he finished thanking the court officials.

He’d never actually been in Thorin’s room. It would be his main chamber now. He would be allowed to keep his current chambers to use as a study or some such thing.

A brown haired guard with a complicated plait that stood up on his head opened the door. Bilbo stepped through and braced himself against the thrill that shot up his spine.

His future was starting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the wedding, as requested by several of you :D 
> 
> Anyone want to see a wedding night?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding night. This is just a lot of smut. You've been warned :)

The blue material smelled like Thorin. It was marvelously comforting. It was somehow warm as well, and as soft as a baby kitten’s fur.

Bilbo would be commandeering a tunic from Thorin to sleep in from now on.

The Prince’s room was quiet. The only sound other than the crackling of the fire was the sound of his shuffling feet and jingling braids. He half imagined he could hear his own heart beating.

Thorin would be here any minute.

Bilbo’s eyes skittered across the room once more, looking for anything out of place that he could tend to. The fire was lit, the furs laid out in front of it. A tankard of wine was set on the table, along with a bowl of fresh fruit as he’d requested, and something of his own hands. The bed-

He blushed even thinking about it. It had been turned down and made ready.

There was nothing to be done. If he stood any closer to the fire he’d singe the hair on his feet. He stepped back from the fire and went towards the bed. Thorin had a much larger bed than Bilbo. It was larger than anything he’d ever seen. There were several furs thrown on top of it, as well as several quilts. His pillows were as nice as the ones Bilbo had used in the Shire.

He sat on the edge of it and swung his feet while he dug his fingers into the fur on either side of his legs. His chest was a mess of things. He couldn’t tell if it was nerves -he had never done anything like this- or eagerness for the upcoming night.

He had just started to play with the tie of his tunic when the door to the bedroom was pushed open. His head snapped to the left to look at his dwarf as he slid off the bed.

He’d removed his weskit before he’d entered the inner chamber, as well as his boots. His hair was partially undone from the many complicated braids so it was hanging loosely around his shoulders with only a few braids. Bilbo felt pride at the sight of the marriage braid he had put in Thorin’s luscious locks. Thorin had discarded his crown as well, though the rest of his jewelry was still on.

He remained in the doorway, looking at Bilbo with an intense stare that made the hobbit feel a little like a rabbit being stalked by a wolf.

Or a fish by a cat.

The dwarf’s eyes slowly scanned down Bilbo’s body, before coming to an utter stop when they reached the tunic he was wearing. It was, of course, far too large for him. It hung off one shoulder and hung halfway to his knees. It covered his modesty well enough, but it apparently just enticed his husband.

That was an amazingly powerful feeling.

Thorin’s gaze lifted back up to his eyes and held Bilbo’s own. It was hard to even breathe in light of their intensity. “Thorin,” he said, though his voice was a little squeaky. He smoothed his hands along the fabric of the tunic he had taken nervously.

The dwarf made a noise deep in his throat, one Bilbo had never heard before, and finally entered the room. He closed the door, and, maintaining eye contact, locked the door. His lips quirked up in a smirk at Bilbo’s responding shy grin.

Thorin moved forward, nearly prowling. Each step was purposeful and he crossed the space between them before Bilbo had quite caught his breath. His large hands glided over Bilbo’s arms, barely touching the fabric there. He grasped one of Bilbo’s hands while his other hand rose up to twirl one of Bilbo’s loose curls around his fingers. “Finally you are mine.”

“We didn’t actually have that long of a courtship, Thorin.” Bilbo reminded with a grin he couldn’t quite be rid of. Not with his dwarf so close, warm, and broad. “I didn’t make you wait terribly long.”

Thorin moved closer, releasing Bilbo’s hand and resting it low on the hobbit’s waist. “You have been extremely cruel during it.” The hand stopped playing with his curls and cupped his cheek instead. His fingers brushed the edge of his ear and it made him shiver.

“I have not!”

“You insist on laughing, and smiling, and swimming. Now I find you in my clothes.” Thorin pulled him closer and Bilbo noticed his own hands were pressed against his dwarf’s chest. He was absently fiddling with the tunic’s fastening. “Bewitching, Daghel. Utterly enchanting.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s lips. Though, it couldn’t really be called that. It was really more of a peck, and then his lips were next to Bilbo’s ear. “Cruel.”

He dipped his head lower, kissing his way down Bilbo’s throat. The hobbit couldn’t find words as the dwarf pressed one-two-three- and then he just sucked at the skin. Unfairly.

His husband released his neck and straightened up with dark eyes. Thorin kissed him again, and it was far more charged than the other had been. He pressed closer, claiming Bilbo’s mouth until he was hardly aware of himself. He didn’t even notice the dwarf’s hands on his tunic until it was slipping further down his shoulder. “I shall have you screaming for me by nights end, my dearest treasure.”

Thorin’s hands pushed the fabric away and he pulled back to fully see Bilbo. It was the first time he’d been bare in front of another creature since he was a fauntling. He was used to healers handling his chest, but being in nothing but his smalls was completely new. Still, he wouldn’t shy away. He lifted his chin and met Thorin’s gaze.

But his dwarf was not looking at his eyes. There was nothing of what he thought hidden in his gaze, and the frank appreciation for Bilbo’s less than impressive body was welcome.

“Your turn.” He quietly intoned. Thorin remained staring for a moment longer before removing his own clothing. The tunic went first, and Bilbo took in the site of his husband’s broad shoulders and firm chest. The braies followed along and Bilbo found himself with a very nice view.

Bilbo met Thorin’s gaze again, and his eyes were nearly starry with love. His normally stoic expression was tender in a way he had never seen before, and he found his breath catching. Thorin leaned slowly towards him, eyes wide and silently asking for permission.

Permission he did not need. Bilbo leaned in, nearly without knowing he did so. He couldn’t look away from Thorin’s expression.

Thorin’s lips touched his as if it was their first kiss. Not like their first kiss had actually been. That had been a panicked press of lips in the middle of a battle. No, this was how a first kiss should be. Chaste, restrained, just a press of lips that were requesting acceptance. Shy, desiring, questioning… It made Bilbo’s breath hitch which encouraged his husband. Thorin adjusted his lips and pressed deeper, still chaste kisses. It was as if he was trying to draw Bilbo in. A seduction that he was utterly helpless against. His larger hands had captured Bilbo’s face and his thumb was stroking the hobbit’s cheeks with cherishing caresses.

He felt as if he was falling in love again.

Still, he’d made plans. Plans he would not just let sit by the wayside. “I have things I wanted to-” He started, his heart fluttering.

“Mmm?” Thorin hummed against his skin.

“Hobbit traditions I wanted to do.”

Thorin pulled away with bright eyes and a soft, almost shy, smile. “Indeed?”

“Yes,” Bilbo pushed against his chest, herding him towards the bed, “very important traditions. You’ve done a lovely job of courting me as a dwarf, but I’ve done rather a poor job of courting you as a hobbit should. I intend to make up for my mistake.”

Thorin sat on the edge of the bed and crawled further back. He watched Bilbo expectantly and pouted when the hobbit did not join him on the bed. Bilbo turned quickly and went to the table to gather the tray. He didn’t want to make it to obvious how widely he was grinning.

Tray in hand, he turned back to his husband with a softer smile that he felt he might be able to control. “Kurdûh,” (my heart) he started, and Thorin’s eyes softened with pleasure at the khuzdul endearment, “hobbits, as you know, are about comfort. When we court we do it so as to increase the comfort of our chosen. To show my interest in you I would have prepared you, and served you a dinner.”

Thorin’s eyes widened in surprise. “The potatoes and warg meat?”

“Was that what it was?” Bilbo made his way across the floor until he was in front of the bed. “I’d no idea. Gandalf and I both couldn’t decide what the meat was.” He shrugged, “You were unaware of the tradition, and that you would do it anyway… It melted my hobbit heart.” he set the tray down on the floor in front of the bed and knelt in front of his handsome dwarf. “It also made me eager to learn about your traditions. Still, there was one thing I wanted to do tonight.”

Thorin’s eyes took in the basin, towels, cloth, and jug.  He looked back at Bilbo, curiosity evident in his steady gaze.

“As you are aware, hobbit’s are very particular about their feet.”

“Protective more like.” Thorin teased gently. Bilbo hadn’t let him touch his feet until Mirkwood. And even then, it had been scandalous enough to make him blush. He had never actually gotten the nerve to touch Thorin’s feet. It was something only married couples did.

“Regardless,” Bilbo continued, and cursed his red ears and warm cheeks as he dipped the cloth into the water, “it is hobbit tradition to wash your spouses feet on the wedding night. It is a sign of trust, a symbol of the shared intimacy of marriage, and the willingness to do anything to aid our chosen.” He rang the water out of the cloth so that it wouldn’t drip on the floor, and took Thorin’s foot.

He ran the cloth over it carefully, admiring how well tended it was. Dwarves, despite initial appearances, were very keen on hygiene. Thorin didn’t say a word as he tended his foot. Not even when he put the cloth away and pressed a kiss to it before taking the other foot up and grabbing a new cloth. Not until he finished cleaning the foot, blushing all the while and marveling at the fact that it was now his right to do such things, did Thorin react.

The minute he disposed of the second cloth he found himself being lifted and deposited on the bed beside his husband. He fell back against the furs and spread his legs so that Thorin could climb between them.

Their lips joined as Thorin settled on top of him. He devoured him eagerly, something they’d done countless times in countless situations. It was fundamentally different though. They’d always had to hold back, always had to be careful. They’d had to be mindful of how far they went less they break the dwarven taboo.

And the sheer amount of skin-on-skin contact made his head spin. He found his breath hitching, and his spine arching in an attempt to increase the contact. He tangled his hands in Thorin’s hair to pull him closer and Thorin responded by pressing their upper bodies closer.

“I have wished for you since I first saw you at that lake.” Thorin mumbled between kisses. His hands were everywhere, and each touch seemed to spark a fire in Bilbo. “That you are now mine, I did not think I would last.” He pushed up to peer down at Bilbo, and his eyes were positively starry with love. Bilbo chased after him, but Thorin kept him against the bed. “No, I would look at you for a moment, Daghel. My incredible husband.”

Bilbo slumped against the bed feeling tingly. “Now who is being cruel?” He asked.

“I have not yet begun to show you how cruel I can be.” He backed his words up with a roll of his hips that had Bilbo gasping and trembling. An ache rose up in his stomach and liquid fire rolled through his veins with each brush of Thorin’s erection against his own.

Thorin rested more fully on top of him, his broad weight covering Bilbo on the bed. It was a welcome weight that felt more like protection than any kind of suffocation. Kisses were pressed everywhere, and fingers explored skin that had been forbidden. It was a haze of heat, desire, and skin as their arousals grew. It made Bilbo’s mind foggy with want.

He wanted to truly be husbands.

Bilbo worked his fingers through Thorin’s hair until he finally reached the dwarf’s scalp. He massaged it eagerly, returning Thorin’s passion with all that he knew about his dwarf. He had learned on the journey to Erebor that his prince enjoyed anyone playing with his hair. Massaging his scalp? Well, Bilbo could have wished for the Arkenstone itself and Thorin probably would have gifted it. The dwarf was utterly defenseless to the action. He invariably went entirely limp against the nearest object (Bilbo this time), and became unaware of anything else.

Right now Thorin positively melted under the touch with a deep groan. He slumped on top of  Bilbo with a shudder that shook his entire body and panted against the skin of his throat.

Bilbo suddenly felt like they were moving far too slowly. He wiggled out from under Thorin while still massaging his scalp with one hand. Thorin hardly seemed to notice his movement at first. When he did manage to pry his eyes open he looked down with a huff to notice that Bilbo was no longer there.

Bilbo couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his lips. His dwarf tilted his head to see Bilbo and scowled until he noticed the vial that Bilbo shook in his direction. “I simply wanted to speed things up, husband. I’m not leaving.”

“I would simply have to hunt you down if you did, Daghel.” The dwarf rose up on his haunches, Bilbo’s hand still in his hair though he’d stopped massaging the scalp and simply let his fingers tangle in the locks. Thorin was quite a sight. His pupils large and eyes half hooded as they took him in. He was panting for want of air, and his skin was a golden color in the fire light. His hair fell about his strong shoulders, highlighting the strength in his limbs. Bilbo found himself with the urge to lick everything. Impractical, but by Yavanna fair, he would find time to do so someday when Thorin had no where to be.

Maybe tomorrow.

Now? He really wanted to be pressed against all that skin again.

Thorin took the bottle of oil from his hands with his dark eyes. “You wish it?”

Bilbo nodded his head. “Very much.” Want was curling deep in his stomach, and grew all the stronger as Thorin uncapped the small bottle. His skin tingled and the air felt heavy with possibilities. He laid back with his head against the pillows and watched as Thorin coated his fingers in the oil. He spread his legs, nearly dizzy with the want of joining his body with Thorin’s.

The dwarf came back to him with an eager smile and intense eyes. “Mizim,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to Bilbo’s knee. His whiskers tickled in a delightful way and Bilbo giggled before he knew what he was about. Thorin beamed and brushed his hand along Bilbo’s inner thigh before drifting down to his cheeks. Bilbo inhaled sharply at the unexpectedly intense sensation and tried not to jerk.

Thorin smiled wickedly. “Did I not promise you that I would have you screaming by nights end?”

“Thorin –” He didn’t finish the statement, and he had no idea what he’d meant to say. Thorin’s mouth closed over his cock and his finger slipped into his hole, and he forgot what thinking even was. It was entirely too much sensation. Too good, too perfect, intense. He gasped and moaned, and made sounds he’d never heard from his own throat. He trembled and thrashed and could barely make his eyes open at all. Thorin touched him where no other ever had, or ever would again, and he lost himself to the sensations. To the warm, wet, suction of his mouth, and the strange, friction and fulness of his finger (fingers? When had the other been added?)

His own hands were far from still. He clenched the furs, then Thorin’s hair, his strong shoulders, his thick arms, and finally the furs again.  

It was too much, he couldn’t possibly last, and he wanted to remember every moment of their joining. He would not have it end before that moment.

“Thorin!” He gasped out of his sore throat. He would have blushed but his skin was already flushed from arousal and he had little care about his appearance. “Thorin-enough! Come to me, husband.”

“Are you certain, my consort? You are still so tight, and you are much softer than I. I would not have myself injure you in passion.” He brushed his fingers down Bilbo’s side, and brushed his nose along the edge of his thigh.

“I’m ready. Continue.” He tugged Thorin nearer and the dwarf balanced himself on one hand while putting a pillow under Bilbo’s hips. He brushed a kiss to his lips as he lined himself up, and the next moment was nothing but an intense stretching, nearly painful, and harsh gasps as Thorin settled into his body.

He was curled up into Thorin, and the dwarf had one arm wrapped around his shoulder and was bent low so that Bilbo could hide his face in his husband’s neck. He felt tense and tight, and entirely too hot. Thorin was mumbling something against him and his hand was stroking his skin in soothing touches. He didn’t move in the slightest bit.

Bilbo inhaled shakily and focused on breathing for several seconds. Finally his body seemed to relax and he felt himself loosen-much like a muscle being kneaded out- and he exhaled. He stopped clutching at Bilbo and lowered back down against the pillows. Thorin’s eyes were wide and worried. He smiled and gave his hips a little wiggle. Thorin watched him carefully before adjusting his stance and drawing his hips back a little. He pushed back in slowly and Bilbo felt his head flop back at the incredible friction and indescribably full feeling.

Thorin, encouraged by his reaction, set up a slow rhythm that had Bilbo aware of nothing else but the feel of his dwarf, and the pleasure of each movement. Kisses were pressed against his face, chest, and neck. “Bilbo,” Thorin murmured, his voice as deep as Bilbo had ever heard it, “my husband, my one, my Bilbo.”

Bilbo dug his fingers into Thorin’s shoulder and rocked his hips in time with Thorin’s. He lost himself to the rhythm, until Thorin adjusted their position and thrust harder.

He saw stars and had no idea what the noise that fell from his throat was. He clung to Thorin as the dwarf hit the wondrous spot repeatedly. He found Thorin’s mouth and kissed him repeatedly, and messily. He couldn’t get close enough as a tight, coiling, pleasure rose in his chest. He wanted all of Thorin, and could not describe the elation and love he felt with each moment. It was freeing and rapturous to be claimed in such a way, and to claim Thorin in return. He latched his lips to Thorin’s throat and bit down hard as Thorin moved faster and harder. The slick sound of their flesh was horribly scandalous, and Bilbo found himself thoroughly addicted.

Thorin growled out and Bilbo found his vision exploding as the tight coil in his chest burst out. Stars danced over his vision and the pleasure flooded his every nerve. He shouted out Thorin’s name and clung to him for another moment before sinking back into the bed.

He stared up at Thorin with hazy eyes and a blissful smile. Thorin moaned and snapped his hips forward. “Take what you need, husband.”

Thorin’s control wavered, and then he was thrusting with far more speed and power. Bilbo clutched the dwarf’s shoulders and focused on laving what he could reach of his chest and neck with kisses. He wanted Thorin to experience the same thrill he had just had.

Seconds or hours later-Bilbo had no real sense of time-Thorin stilled, his hips flush against BIlbo’s and his head tossed back. He bellowed Bilbo’s name into the air with several other khuzdul words and then Bilbo was filled with a warmth. Thorin slumped against him, his bulk and weight pushing him into the bed.

Bilbo adored the sensation.

They stayed like that for several minutes until Thorin pushed himself up on shaky arms and withdrew from him. He rolled to his side and pushed a kiss to his cheek. Bilbo wasn’t certain he could even move.

“Rest for a while, my love.” Thorin murmured, his breath warm and his voice low. “For the night is still young.”

Bilbo beamed.

 

 


End file.
